Thread: Heaven: Anthropologist from Hell Board: Limbo / Ship of Fools.


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Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
DAY 1 - noon

Have established base camp. Despite not being permitted to pack in the standard heavy weaponry, in accordance with the standing Heaven/Hell Peace Treaty, I've set up a defensive perimeter of motion detectors to provide me with adequate warning. The mischeviousness of the natives is legendary, and will need to be guarded against to prevent them from accidentally contaminating the area with troll bait or using up my meagre supply of sulphur. It needs to last until another Hellhost can bat-lift in additional supplies.

From my current vantage point, I think I can see all sorts of bizzarre activity. I shall endeavour to investigate closer and report my findings in my next log entry.

[ 20. April 2005, 15:54: Message edited by: KenWritez ]
 

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Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
DAY 1 - 14:00

Have discovered some sort of tribal dance. A central group appears to be undergoing some sort of inquisition or filtering process. I speculate that the natives are trying to find a virgin to sacrifice in their backwards rituals. They'll need a lot of luck; these beings appear to copulate at the drop of a hat. Very friendly.

Aside: Must remember to take innoculations upon return to base camp. Also, need to unpack spare set of boots. Stepped on something squishy and annoyingly underfoot, possibly an fledgling Sinéite.
 

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Posted by Cartmel Bar Veteran (# 7049) on :
 
You're not supposed to drink the bong water you know?
 

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Posted by Ariel (# 58) on :
 

quote:

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Originally posted by RooK:
Stepped on something squishy and annoyingly underfoot, possibly an fledgling Sinéite.

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quote:

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Originally posted by RooK:
Also, need to unpack spare set of boots. Stepped on something squishy and annoyingly underfoot, possibly an fledgling Sinéite.

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quote:

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Originally posted by saysay:
What kind of anthropologist steps on his specimens?

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quote:

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Originally posted by Left at the Altar:
Careful RooK. You don't want to end up in the natives' soup pot.

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No, that would be an anthropophagist. Though I suppose we already have a person here who makes a lovely Stoo.

quote:

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Originally posted by RooK:
Indeed, I'd love to give every native hereabouts a taste of my boot.

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quote:

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Originally posted by sophs:
A disembodied vice

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What would that be, exactly? Free-floating lust?
 

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Posted by ken (# 2460) on :
 

quote:

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Originally posted by The Wanderer:
Wow - what a difficult thread! Everybody's using such BIG words! Can anyone put all of this into simple language so that I can compr... underst.... - so that I know what's going on?

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quote:

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Hey - are those marshmallows?

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quote:

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Originally posted by Mrs Badcrumble:
In my head, Rook now speaks like David Attenborough.... maybe Attenborough's evil twin?

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If only you knew.

That anthropologist from Hell is used to being amongst the Greatly Granola Generation among the Roses while playing with his toy trucks—when not taking small rodents to a higher State of existence in rush hour. So, while one cannot measure something without affecting it somehow, the anthropologist will probably find a way to carry out his mission and return alive to tell his tales.
 

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Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
[Hangs head in shame; reports to Callan]

Sir, I regret to inform you that my attempt to lure the intruder out into the open so you can get a clean shot has failed.

While he is clearly intelligent, I fear that he will not survive long in this atmosphere. Unless... Yes, that's it! I shall endeavor to convince him that he does, indeed, have a heart.

It will be a difficult mission. This close to Valentine's Day, his resistance will be higher than normal. I realize that it could mean my death, but that is a risk I am willing to take to protect my fellow shipmates.

Now, does anybody know where I can find some chunks of raw meat? Janine, you wouldn't happen to have any, would you?
 

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Posted by Gort (# 6855) on :
 
The flickering monitor of the aurascope attracts The Navigator's attention. Hundreds of lifeforms encircling a position within the fluorescent pink jungle below. Calculations indicate high probability that The Anthropolgist has been located. Manuevering his silent vessel to an advantage point, the android moves his hand over a control board and energizes an induction field.

Deep within the bowels of the demon craft, a crackling force builds upon itself. Must be ready to lay down a cleansing wall of Hellfire on the primitives below if they choose to rush The Anthropologist. Except for a brave few, the encircling horde remains hidden.

Will attempt contact on open channel to warn rogue scientist.
 

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Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
saysay pauses, transfixed by something shiny in the sky; shakes head

Really musn't let myself get distracted like that.

trundles off in search of raw meat
 

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Posted by Duo Seraphim (# 3251) on :
 
INTERNAL MEMORANDUM

To: Callan (Special Circumstances Agent)

From: Duo Seraphim

cc: Alan Cresswell, Supreme Wizard and Adminiphim Liason; RuthW, Mistress of the Mysteries and Keeper of the Holy Stones

We are concerned about this attempt to co-opt the local wildlife in your mission to restore the Continuum. Raw meat is unlikely to tempt the "rook".

The poor debased creature has interpreted your lures in the only way it knows. While it is otherwise laughable that any initiate of the Order of the Most Holy Mountain would contaminate himself with gambling, these are desperate times. The Randomness Index remains unacceptably high and we are at an increased risk of Topic Incursion.

We regret that you may have to lower yourself to losing some games of "poker", in order to tempt the creature forth.

Duo Seraphim, 7th Level Sage and Most High Defender of Topic Purity
 

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Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
DAY 2 - 16:45

Have been following one of the natives. I think it probably realizes I'm present, but seems to quickly lose interest in me. When the Keener Sidekick found me, the native was momentarily fascinated with the hovering Aerospace Hog. It's possible that I should request an Imp Parcel Service delivery of some shiny beads for use in barter here.

Sidenote: Messenger popup indicates that Keener Sidekick is trying to get in touch with me. Probably wants to share his latest copy of some Britney Spears song. Set status to "busy".

What's truly fascinating is that upon meeting another lone native, the native I was following glanced about, then gobbled the newcomer up whole. The subsequent prolonged preening process may perhaps be intended to hide evidence of the predation. It seems that here is indeed support for Darth Nightlamp's theories that Heaven inhabitants participate in many of the exact same interactions as in Hell, just more superficially sanitized. His theory about them being juicier should wait until later in the expedition to be tested.

Comm system claims that there is some sort of Orange Alert about suspected activity from Purgatorim Terrorists. Probably about Callan the Stinky. Ignoring for now; I have enough Duct Tape.
 

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Posted by Tortuf (# 3784) on :
 
The farce RooK. Use the farce.
 

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Posted by Gort (# 6855) on :
 
turns up gain on ToadyPhone 3000™. faint sounds of sniggering interspersed with crunching and slurping on the base frequency. the ship shimmers briefly and winks out.
 

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Posted by Tortuf (# 3784) on :
 
RooK,

I have been in communication with the Purgatoids. Apparently, they only wish to study you to ascertain whether or not you can recite the home phone number of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Never fear. I will let you know what it is in case of an emergency. Please do watch out for the one called Alan though. I hear he invades other countries and carries off their women.

The one you need to watch out for is the Dead Horses Host. He is said to have incredible stamina. Did you know he reads all of those posts in Dead Horses and still has not committed Seppuku, or shot innocent civilians using an AK-47 at the nearest tower?

Please be sure and not interrupt any Heaven rituals. I understand that they are quite upset when one is interrupted. You have heard of the curse, haven't you?
 

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Posted by dj_ordinaire (# 4643) on :
 
After establishing a vantage point in the nearest Chapel of Ease, I am able to report back to Mystery Worship that neither the fiendish anthropologist, his Celestial Quarry nor those curiously longwinded Purgatorial types are properly vested for the liturgical Season.

The light at Rook's camp is derived from little butane lamps rather than symmetrically arranged altar candles, and even though it is Saturday he has neglected to wear blue socks. His pith helmet is exceptionally comely, however, probably purchased at that nice little Bespoke Safari Outfitter off Savile Row, and in a material that could at a distance be mistaken for lace. I might attempt to steal it.

My only fear is that by the time I return to more liturgically competent climes, the whole thing will have gone "belly-up" and turn into some sort of tea-light toting "Ecclesiantic" realm...
 

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Posted by Custard. (# 5402) on :
 

 

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Posted by Sarkycow (# 1012) on :
 
Sarkycow wanders into base camp, straight through the perimeter of motion sensors. The sensors appear about to go off, but a quick wave of the toasting fork emabrrasses them into silence.

RooK?

RooK?

Thought you might be needing some more sulphur by now. Found anything interesting up here?

There's a little fluffy thing hanging about in the treees over there. It keeps laughing manically. I suggest we observe it - see if it does anything more than laugh.
 

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Posted by snowgoose (# 4394) on :
 
My, we seem to be having a lot of visitors today. Better put the kettle on.

< Sets knitting down carefully, puts kettle on, prepares teapot, puts out trays of cakes and little cups of sweets on those frilly paper doilies. >

Tea, anyone?
 

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Posted by Light (# 4693) on :
 
Mmm, hot tea! Heaven really is pleasant. Hell wasn't more than lukewarm when I passed through and Purgatory offered some really exotic cuisine, but the snoring from some of the longer threads quite ruined the athmosphere. The music in the Circus is enough to drive anyone crazy and I couldn't get reliable directions to either Mystery Worshipper or Small Fire.

Perhaps I should stay here for a while. Seems peaceful enough at the moment.
 

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Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
After snacking on a newbie who had begged me to be put him out of his misery, I have spent the night hunting and skinning a bunny. In the event that the intruder attacks, I believe the momentary confusion of having a dead animal, particularly one that bears a resemblance to a shipmate he enjoys leering at, will distract him for long enough for me to run away. (sorry, Kelly, but it’s an emergency)

saysay conceals the dead bunny in a meadow near his camp, then goes for a walk in the woods. She thought, for a while, that he was following her at a distance, but she seems to have lost him during the night. She is not sure if he needs sleep. She takes a quick nap. Upon awakening, she skips into the meadow.

RooK? she twirls her hair, as she has learned that this makes her appear less threatening. Do you wanna come out and play?

She hears a rustling in the woods but gets no response.

Listen, RooK, it’s OK. I understand. You’re afraid that we won’t love you for who you are. I know that fear. I understand. But up here we try really hard to get along. I’m sure if you just told us something about yourself, we could find some common ground.

More rustling. She is sure he is out there (of course, she is often wrong).

I know you’ve probably been rejected many times, by many different people, and that really, you just want to be loved. But there are people here who can commiserate. If you just gave us a chance, I think you’d find that we’re not nearly as horrible as you think.

She decides to sit down, even though this makes her more vulnerable.

I know it’s hard to trust. I’m involved in a relationship with an atheistic Jewish optical engineer (well, he’s as atheistic as you can be when you’re raised on the Force and Sandman ). Just last week he compared me to a Macintosh computer, saying that I was all pretty pictures, cute noises, and antiestablishment and stuff. “Sweetie,” I had to say, “this is why none of your relationships with other people last more than two weeks. Some people compare women with a summer’s day. You compare them to operating systems.”

Still no movement. saysay takes out a lighter, it being the only vaguely mechanical thing on hand, and starts rolling it along the ground.

We have toys here. They are simply toys, but fun. See? It makes a great noise and it sparks.

She stands up and wipes the dirt off her behind.

I know you’re out there. And I know you care more than you let on. Why else would you be here? C’mon out.
 

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Posted by Amazing Grace (# 4754) on :
 
Well, as I for one have given up reading the Hell board for Lent, I welcome the Anthropologist to these shores with glad cries and some really nice chocolate.

Charlotte
 

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Posted by jedijudy (# 1059) on :
 
The jedi walks silently through the heavenly realm, circling the area the chess piece seems to have taken as a sanctuary. Except for the gentle lowing of a bovine creature, all is quiet.

It is the jedi's intent that the area remains that way.

I sense much fear in the rook creature. Does he not understand the danger of falling to the dark side?
 

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Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
DAY 3 - 17:00

Encounters with Tortuf continue. Either the fishing around here is really good, or he's hitting on me. One of us is bound to be disappointed.

Remote sensors reported a hot babe dropping off sulphur and supplies at base camp. Must remember to return to base camp cautiously. Sarky isn't someone to surprise, unless you like being stabbed or beaten. Now that I think about it, I've never had much opportunity to talk with any of her boyfriends...

That damn Jedi is out there; I can feel it. I do hope that Sarky resists being confrontational. I fear suffering through some more chintz. Gah. I see paisley just thinking about it. Doesn't she realize the danger of horribly mismatched decoration?

Exciting development: I think the native I've shadowing is attempting communication! It appears to speak a mildly offensive religious dialect of psycho-babblese. Perhaps Sarky might be more adept at translation? Not wanting to lose this rare opportunity, however, will endeavour to tell the small female that I won't kill it immediately, and that I am hoping to learn about its culture. Translated into pidgin psycho-babblese, that should be something like:

"Hello fellow worthwhile being. I feel that you might be intimidated by my strangeness and various differences from yourself, but I want to assure you that there is no need to give into these primitive fears - even though they are perfectly normal and are nothing to be ashamed of. Would you please be so kind as to help me understand how you feel about yourself, and your personal relationships with others that you know? Did your mother beat you?"
 

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Posted by Gort (# 6855) on :
 
[*boink*] ...the silvery disk snaps back into local space-time.

The subspace interference on the base frequency turned out to be a minor ritual lambasting of a fourth level Purgatoid. Although it initially showed promise as a sacrificial blood-letting, it was mysteriously canceled by a Styxian Overlord; presumably for clumsy liturgy and identity exposure.

Resuming defensive observational position 1,500m alt.
 

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Posted by Sarkycow (# 1012) on :
 
Sarkycow wanders round from behind the tent, where she was lurking to watch the Jedi Mistress.

Hmmm, I remember her from last time. She tried to redecorate Hell. And she set up a cattery. Damn woman. I must try and keep the peace there. All we're really doing is watching and recording what the natives get up to up here - it's not like we'll be doing any real harm...

Though if she starts waving that lightsabre at me, the fork might accidentally fall through her heart.

Sarkycow grabs a sharpening iron, and begins working on her fork tines. In a short while, she'll take a walk through the forest, and see what's out there.
 

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Posted by Gort (# 6855) on :
 
The aurascope indicates a local lifeform equipped with advanced weaponry! It's metaclorian count is off the scale! This may indicate possible experience with bloodletting.

If the Reverend Cow can convince the bold creature to put aside it's butterfly net and energy-tube, perhaps she'll find a useful specimen to interrogate.
 

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Posted by Kelly Alves (# 2522) on :
 
Bunny hears some commotion in the woods and heads that direction,hoping that there will be beer and weenie roasts involved.

She stops as she spots a shred of fur on the path. She stoops to inspect it

It looks familiar.

Its..its..

"UNCLE FRED!!"



(swinging axe wildly)

"Curse whatever foul man or beast has devoured my kin! I hope he gives you indigestion, you fiend!"

Her grief spent, Bunny tosses the skin aside. Was bound to happen sooner or later. Guy had a habit of getting a drunk-on and chatting up coyotes.

[ 13. February 2005, 16:32: Message edited by: Kelly Alves ]
 

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Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
DAY 4

Native appears transfixed, and despite a long day and night of attempting communication with a combination of pidgin-speak, diagrams, and gestures, no real headway has been made. It's possible that the native might either be capable of sleeping with its eyes open, or it's thinking really really slowly. Perhaps both, simultaneously.

Side note: have discovered that some of the plants here may be sentient. I noticed their seeming annoyance when I ripped off some of their leaves for use as makeshift TP. Perhaps these may be extremely sedentiary animals that have undergone convergent evolution with plants, or they may be plants that have evolved some need for minor problem-solving capabilities. Either way, they represent an extremely exciting discovery, for they are remarkably soft and absorbant.
 

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Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
saysay claps her hands and jumps up and down when RooK comes out to play. Her initial excitement wanes, however, when it becomes clear that RooK is one of those intelligent Yankee boys who doesn’t stop speaking long enough for anyone to get a word in edgewise. She does what she usually does in these situations – she stares at him and pretends that she’s listening, while she’s actually mentally rearranging her living room and thinking about what she’s going to have for dinner. Boys have such fragile egos, and she hates to damage them unnecessarily. As evening approaches, it becomes clear that his stamina is greater than most people’s. She has been known, in these kinds of desperate situations, to solve the problem by sticking something, such as her hand, across the boy’s mouth. Given the creature’s fangs, this does not seem like a wise option, and she does not want to waste the bunny, lest it become necessary later.

Oh good grief! she finally says, stamping her foot. Enough already.

You want to know how I feel about the other natives hereabouts? I like them. They make me laugh .

Do you know what it means to like someone or something? Do you know what laughter is, you poor little creature?

And no, my mother didn’t beat me, although she did occasionally twist my arm behind my back to make me stay in the corner when I wouldn’t. Mostly, though, she subjected me to long and torturous conversations about why I was acting the way I was acting. Do you know what a conversation is, or do you always just go on and on like everyone else is supposed to care about what you think just because your IQ is two points higher than the average person's?
 

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Posted by jedijudy (# 1059) on :
 
The chess piece seems to spend a lot of time writing and looking at the bottoms of its shoes. Oh, and its sanitary habits are most unusual. I wonder, would it prefer to know where the sanitary facilities are, or would a cat box be more to its taste? I must be wary. Even though it seems harmless enough, I fear the creature has fallen farther to the dark side than I first thought.

The jedi turns to observe the interesting bovine creature which has turned to watch her in turn.

How interesting. A fork? One would think that she might fear the instrument by which many of its fellow creatures have been consumed. Perhaps she thinks that it might be of some use against the antique space ship which seems to be hovering above this area.

The jedi walks silently to check on the native bunnies and cats and others, remembering that they prefer to live in peace in this heavenly land.

Note to self: no more attemps to transplant the creatures of this land to other less hospitable lands should be made. They complained loudly about the general uncleanliness and unpleasant smell. Oh, and someone actually thought that the pattern of the chintz was paisley . How can one confuse florals with paisley??
 

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Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
DAY 4 - later that day

The native has appeared to awaken with a spasmodic twitch. Possible later testing should include investigating congenital proclivity for seizures.

It may be prudent to transmit a recording of the interaction to Sarky for her opinion on some specifics, but I think I understand enough to proceed. Other than some phraseology that would indicate sexist tendencies and confusion about my origin, the little native female primarily seemed eager to demonstrate her appreciation for her tribe and its customs.

She invoked a chest-thumping behaviour that one might suspect as being out of place in this land, but again agrees convenietly with Darth Nightlamp's theory of their sublimated hypocrisy. Additionally, she appeared to recognize and acknowledge my vast intellectual superiority and made the somewhat sophisticated response of being hostile about the fact. It is possible that I have inadvertently found an oddly aggressive native, or it may merely be a periodic phenomenon.

For convenience of reference, I'll designate this individual "bitchy native", and have irradiated her with a tracking and identification marker. Hopefully I can learn some more from bitchy native, or use my charms to persuade her to take me to her leader.

Addendum: Jedi still lingering. Clearly it is either watching me and Sarky for security reasons, or it's attracted to bastards like most girls are.
 

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Posted by Grits (# 4169) on :
 
I see now why the anthropologist had to venture so far from his native home -- his ego has obviously grown too large to be contained in one stratosphere.
 

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Posted by RuthW (# 13) on :
 
INTERNAL MEMORANDUM

To: Callan (Special Circumstances Agent)

From: RuthW, Mistress of the Mysteries and Keeper of the Holy Stones

cc: Alan Cresswell, Supreme Wizard and Adminiphim Liason; Duo Seraphim, 7th Level Sage and Most High Defender of Topic Purity


My dear sir,

I regret the need to press you on the matter, but the necessity of containing the entity known as RooK and mending the breach in the time-fora continuum grows urgent. There are as we speak no fewer than two threads on The Lord of the Rings on the sacred slopes of Mount Purgatory, and the discussion of sex, drugs and rock'n'roll continues unabated. While a certain amount of light-heartedness may be tolerable in Purgatory, I fear the consequences if the trend is not stopped.

How soon may we expect the RooK to be captured and returned to its native habitat? Do you require assistance? Will the interminable thread on ecclesiology be strong enough to bring down the RooK, or do you need to be resupplied with a discussion of the filioque?
 

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Posted by Sine Nomine (# 3631) on :
 

quote:

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Originally posted by RuthW:
How soon may we expect the RooK to be captured and returned to its native habitat? Do you require assistance? Will the interminable thread on ecclesiology be strong enough to bring down the RooK, or do you need to be resupplied with a discussion of the filioque?

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Have you considered laying a trail of Hair Club gift certificates leading to a cage baited with the latest issue of Hot Rod Magazine? That should do the trick.

[ 14. February 2005, 10:24: Message edited by: Sine Nomine ]
 

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Posted by nicolemrw (# 28) on :
 
the pilgrim wanders in again, and noticing snowgoose, accepts a cup of tea and a cake, nodding politely in thanks.

the pilgrim wanders off again, sipping tea and nibbling cake.
 

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Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
Aw, RooK, sweetie, come back. I was just playing.

As she watches the intruder wander back to his camp, saysay remembers a coworker, C, from one of the jobs she held in college. One day, as she worked on the computer, C took a pin and repeatedly jabbed it in her arm. She ignored it for a while, and then, when it became annoying, said “would you quit doing that? Is there a reason you’re poking me?”

“You’re just so funny,” C said, “’Cause you don’t do anything.” After a brief pause, C began poking her again, which resulted in a heated, profanity-laden exchange. “You’re so cute when you’re mad,” C said as he pinched her chipmunk cheek.

“OK, so I’m funny when I ignore it, and I’m cute when I’m mad. Is there actually anything I can do to get you to stop trying to hurt me?”

“No.” At which point, saysay picked up one of the water noodles provided by their boss so the student workers could release their aggression without hurting each other and proceeded to beat him until she got tired.

RooK, I’m sorry if I was mean to you. I was just trying to talk to you in a language you might understand. Your ways are strange and all that.

saysay watches RooK stumble blindly around. Since, after five days, he still seems unaware that others possess any sort of sentience, she knows that teaching him the ways of Heaven – where the acceptability of a post is often determined by the intention of the poster – will be an impossible task. Trusting the Jedi to keep him confined, she skips off in search of Callan.
 

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Posted by Sarkycow (# 1012) on :
 
Having scanned the landscape, and seen the Jedi Mistress glide westwards, Sarkycow decides it would be prudent to begin her explorations eastwards. Accordingly, she heads east, through the trees.
 

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Posted by Light (# 4693) on :
 
This is a nice teaparty, but there is an inordinate amount of coming and going. What about peacefulness? I knew I should have packed the flamethrower.

Starts rummaging through backpack in search of a peacemaking device.
 

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Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
DAY 5 - noon

And now I understand why they call this realm "Heaven". Have encountered the most lovely creature, clad in the purest shimmering samite. It floated over to me, punctured my stabilizing ego bladder, and disappeared. (Note: must avoid diving too deep into any Pyx_e threads until ego heals.) It's clear that this being must be revered as a goddess by the natives.

Unfortunately, while I was distracted by the Heavenly Goddess, bitchy native wandered off. I may have missed some cultural cue, or failed to assure her that she was not fat, or perhaps she was intimidated by the presence of the Heavenly Goddess. Regardless, I seem to have missed any chance to use bitchy native as a guide.

My instinctive fear of being stabbed is steadily fading, which must mean that Sarky is moving off eastward. To maximize our cooperative exploration, and minimize my chances of pissing her off, I'll head west...
 

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Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
saysay's quest to find Callan and request further orders was cut short when she stumbled upon a toy store. After a few hours of playing, she decides that maybe the intruder would feel better if the natives treated him like a native, instead of a hostile. She returns to the camp.

RooK, are you there? I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I brought you a present.

He's ugly and pathetic, just like you, but adorable in his own way. You know, G-d loves you the way that we love the ugly dolls.

I'll just leave him right here for you. I understand if it's hard for you to accept gifts from others, so I won't be offended if you don't take him home with you.
 

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Posted by jedijudy (# 1059) on :
 
Moving in a generally westward direction, the jedi senses that the heavenly citizens are aware of the visitors, but not unduly alarmed. Some, in fact, are attempting communication...and...bribery? Yet...the cold fingers of the dark side appear to creep closer to the jedi's back...

The chess piece has left its sanctuary. Does it come in peace, or will I be called on to defend my fellows?

The jedi turns, lightsaber in hand, but un-lit, prepared to meet the RooK, should it decide to show itself.
 

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Posted by Grits (# 4169) on :
 
Perhaps his big head is actually hiding a big brain, after all. I'd never heard of samite, not being up on my medieval fabric and all that. So I Googled and found this little ditty about Morgan Le Fey.

All in all, I think an encounter with samite would suit him better than one with tat.
 

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Posted by Tortuf (# 3784) on :
 
Note to self:

The Hell base camp is a mess of empty beer cans (Mostly Canada Blue) and empty pork and bean cans. There are burnt spots here and there. I see the remains of some hosenpheffer by the fire.

I have activated the airborne drones to track the Hellish fiends, err . . . friends, who appear to be headed in opposite directions. It has occurred to me to tell them that Heaven is an exceptionally small place. They are bound to run into one another pretty soon now. I have dispatched the drones for precisely that reason. I will either prevent some needless bloodshed, or I will be able to sell the videotapes.

I can sense the recent presence of a member of another protector race. She, it was a she, seems to have not degenerated as much as my crowd. Must remember to not be seen by her. She will probably ask some embarrassing questions. I think all the bodies are sufficiently well hidden, but you never know. The bribes that work so well with Hellhosts seems to not interest her kind.

I have rifled through Rooks wallet. Careless of him to have left it here. I'll just take it to keep it safe. With any luck, he won't report the credit cards stolen for a few days.

Lots of these Heaven creatures around. Best to give them a few rounds from my 45 just to be safe. Tends to keep them at bay.

I wonder if the copy of Bede's Ecclesiastical History of England I left out to tempt the Purgatoids has worked.
 

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Posted by The Bede's American Successor (# 5042) on :
 

quote:

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Originally posted by Tortuf:
Note to self:

The Hell base camp is a mess of empty beer cans (Mostly Canada Blue) and empty pork and bean cans. There are burnt spots here and there. I see the remains of some hosenpheffer by the fire.

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quote:

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I wonder if the copy of Bede's Ecclesiastical History of England I left out to tempt the Purgatoids has worked.

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quote:

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Originally posted by welsh dragon:
Mental state:[...]
Impression: would recommend admission for further oservation and detailed assessment. Suggest urine drug screen to exclude intoxication with ilicit substances.

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quote:

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Originally posted by saysay:
Just last week he compared me to a Macintosh computer, saying that I was all pretty pictures, cute noises, and antiestablishment and stuff. “Sweetie,” I had to say, “this is why none of your relationships with other people last more than two weeks. Some people compare women with a summer’s day. You compare them to operating systems.”

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quote:

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Originally posted by ChastMastr:
I suppose he could then...

say, "SaySay, what you want? But don't play games with my affection..."

David
ahr ahr ahr

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by saysay:
And I could then respond, "but, darling, if I didn't toy with your affections, how on earth would I entertain myself?"

You haven't been eavesdropping on our conversations, have you?

---

No, just the "Hits of the 80s" hour on the radio.

David
er, you see, in 1983 there was this song...
 

---

Posted by Sarkycow (# 1012) on :
 
Sarkycow has spent the last day wandering through the woods, and playing with fluffy animals - in the way a cat might play with a mouse, prior to eating it. She has now reached the edge of the clearing, and is looking out across the landscape, when she spies RooK.

"Hey, look what I found!"

She holds up her toasting fork, with seven small, fluffy creatures impaled on the tines. In response, RooK grins, and holds up the cat in one hand. His other hand is empty.

"Whatcha looking for?"

She quickly crosses the clearing, as he answers. She nods, thinks for a minute, then begins rummaging in her bag. After a quick search, she pulls something out and hands it to RooK.

"Think that'll do. Now we just need some fire."
 

---

Posted by sophs (# 2296) on :
 
A voice from the trees around the camp calls for Jedi Judy...

I'm sure she won't let small fluffy things get eaten.
 

---

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
Eaten? Of course not. Don't be silly. Do we look like Kenwritez to you?

No, I use kittens purely for artistic purposes. I use them as interestingly-shaped brushes for my particular form of artwork that happen to use condiments as a medium. OK, it just so happens that all the really interesting shapes only happen when you fling the condiment-laden kitten really hard at the "artistic surface", and that coincidentally causes them to be temptingly tenderized...
 

---

Posted by Sarkycow (# 1012) on :
 
Hey, RooK, I didn't realise that you'd learnt their language!

I'm... almost impressed.
 

---

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
To be fair, I still can't actually pronounce some of their sounds or mince properly - so I built a translator.
 

---

Posted by Sarkycow (# 1012) on :
 
Smart man

But yeah, they do seem to walk funny. When they're walking, and not either flitting from tangent to tangent, or hopping/skipping across the stream of consciousness.

Judging by the reactions of the native inhabitants, I think we're seeing an entirely new society to that of the Great War. Even the leaders appear to have changed unusually. I wonder what could have caused this?
 

---

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
The discarded whoopee cushions and used french ticklers I've found littering the landscape during my sojourn suggest a possible answer. They've become... naughty.
 

---

Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
saysay notes that while the intruders seem to have gathered a number of fluffy things, they don't seem to be intent on hurting them. She puts down her water noodle, relieved that it doesn't look like she's going to have to get over her fear of forks on this particular day.
 

---

Posted by The Bede's American Successor (# 5042) on :
 

quote:

---

Originally posted by RooK:
The discarded whoopee cushions and used french ticklers I've found littering the landscape during my sojourn suggest a possible answer. They've become... naughty.

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by Gort:
The jedi considers my craft "antique".

---

If your software is written in BASIC on DOS you only have yourself to blame.

"goto autoexec.bat" indeed
 

---

Posted by Gort (# 6855) on :
 
*ZZZZZTTTTT*

A short quick burst vaporizes the hapless creature's malfunctioning satire meter.
 

---

Posted by Rat (# 3373) on :
 
A small, sleek and rather nondescript little creature comes slipping around the edge of the clearing, its tiny claws skittering on the forest floor. The kind of animal that might pop out of the undergrowth in any realm, but usually goes unnoticed by the larger inhabitants. Since this is a day with a y in it, its little mind is mainly occupied by the thought of food. 'Food, food, food, food, f-'

It is brought up short, nose twitching and whiskers akimbo. Something...unusual...is blocking its accustomed path. A massive paw shaped thing with claws much like the creature's own, except blacker, scarier, much, much bigger and...what is that extraordinary smell? In the back of its mind the creature notes some other feet in the vicinity - hooves that might belong to a cow, and some futuristic boots - but neither of those seem likely to result in food. But this here...well, it's amazing the unprepossessing things that sometimes turn out to taste good.

The creature reaches out for an experimental nip. Its tiny teeth are sharp as sharp knives, and its little mind can incline to viciousness if it thinks the prey won't bite back.

The massive claw shifts, and another waft of that strange smell surrounds the little creature. Abruptly, it changes its mind. Probably not food, then. Probably tastes nasty - yeah, that's it, in fact it never intended to bite that yucky looking claw at all. Is there a smell of tofu around here?

The tiny creature skitters off back into the undergrowth, unnoticed. 'Food, food, food, food...'
 

---

Posted by Living in Gin (# 2572) on :
 
The man known to his friends simply as "Gin" and his loyal sidekick Spong, traveling through the area by train, get off at the local stop to walk around a bit. Takes note of strange landscape and odd dialect. Notes that one creature looks vaguely familiar, possibly having briefly met in the lobby of a house of ill-repute back home. Decides not to investigate further when Spong senses this is not a safe place for him.

Gin finds his interest quickly waning. After building an architecturally noteworthy shrine to himself nearby, he gulps down a few White Castle sliders and washes it down with a couple of extra-dry Tanqueray martinis. He than takes Spong and staggers back to the station to await the next train to Chicago.
 

---

Posted by Sarkycow (# 1012) on :
 
Ok, I've cleared a space on the ground, RooK.

But, I was thinking, perhaps these... creatures, are more into natural art? Drawing with burnt sticks, and using leaves and berries to make paint-like substances, perhaps?

I'm not sure that we can communicate directly with them, but possibly leaving them some pictures and gifts might encourage them to come closer?

(I don't recommend that we draw our home, though - it's very different to here, and might just scare the creatures.)
 

---

Posted by ChastMastr (# 716) on :
 
(Offers a comic book about a relative of Sarky's as a sort of peace offering. No forks, but she does have fangs...)
 

---

Posted by nicolemrw (# 28) on :
 
the pilgrim wanders in, glances at the comic book pages, and immediatly morphs into other form of Librarian.

oh migawd, chast, its from howard the duck! waugh! i remember the original issue!!!
 

---

Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
saysay wanders off to fetch hot dogs and beer, as this seems to have turned into quite the party. It looks like the intruders, er, guests, are going to perform for the natives. And they brought the condiments. Which was a bit presumptuous of them, really, but whatever.
 

---

Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
saysay returns with refreshments and sets them up on the picnic table.

She suffers a brief panic attack as she realizes that the ship's True Queen, He who she strives to emulate (forever falling short of His glory) would not approve of such low-rent refreshments.

She contemplates asking Him what to do, but doubts He would condescend to speak with her.
 

---

Posted by Kelly Alves (# 2522) on :
 
Bunny leans on axe handle, blatantly evesdropping on RooK and Sark from behind a tree.

Ah, you crazy kids. What do you plan to do to 'em once you lure them in?
 

---

Posted by Grits (# 4169) on :
 
Hmmm... I wouldn't mind a nibble of tofu-kitten, myself. Just to see what it tastes like, you understand, with a sprinkle of cayenne pepper...
 

---

Posted by Scot (# 2095) on :
 
I expect that it tastes like tofu chicken.
 

---

Posted by Grits (# 4169) on :
 
Yep. Parts is parts.
 

---

Posted by Tortuf (# 3784) on :
 
Ahem.
 

---

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
And now, for some cultural exchange.

(Cue's hovering spacecraft to direct a spotlight on the event, and to start playing appropriately lilting tones over its loudspeakers.)

All right, first I'll just get myself an array of tofu kittens, dipping each one in a different brightly-coloured condiment, like so...

(Dunks each jiggly kitten-shaped edible brush into bowls of bright yellow mustard, or light red catsup, or ruddy barbeque sauce, or dark creole spices, or greenish curry. Then tosses each kitten up in a graceful arc, until they are all part of a spectacular juggling array, all flinging colourfully about in time with the music.)

All right, now my lovely assistant Ms. Sarkycow will hold up a large blank panel... like so. And now, bunnys and boys, a tribute to our shared history...!

(The kittens, while still being juggled, are alternately bounced off the panel. They bump against the panel, leaving a colourful and interestingly-shaped blot, then bounce back into the complex juggling pattern. The sound of the kittens thumping against the board beats a drum line adding new texture to the accompaniment. Slowly the, the individual blots start to pile up into recognizable shapes, until they form a remarkable image of a large ship cresting over turbulent seas, complete with a portrait of Simon Jenkins smiling benevolently from the wheelhouse.)

Thup thup thup thup thup... thup thup thupplSHPAT!

(The kittens are all caught, except that one comes apart from all the stress at the very end, splattering part of its faux-anatomy on the ground - revealing a startling-green interior.)

Green? Ooops. That's not tofu. These are Soylent Green kittens.

Sorry about that, Grits.
 

---

Posted by Grits (# 4169) on :
 
Oh, well, that's just great. For once, I decide to get outside my culinary comfort zone and try a little kitten, but, noooooooooo... the brilliant young anthropologist ends up trying to feed me people.
 

---

Posted by jedijudy (# 1059) on :
 
The jedi came near to believing that the bovine creature and the chess piece might start to "play nice". Just when she thought she might be able to let these little ones happily play with their food, the gruesome truth is revealed.

Soylent Green kittens, not even Darth Vader dared such an evil deed. Where is the hive of scum and villainy that is home to the ogres which have created such a monstrous defiling of life (or death)? Doubtless it is the same ill-conceived country which begat you two uninvited visitors.

The art was fine...reminded me of those elephant paintings made a bit east of here, but, come on! Soylent Green is just so-o-o disgusting. We've got some really good restaurants around here. Would you care for some Italian?

The jedi tries to herd the visitors toward the path that leads to several nice eating establishments. Meanwhile, she almost tosses her cookies just thinking about the SG kitten.
 

---

Posted by Grits (# 4169) on :
 
OOOooohhh... cookies!
 

---

Posted by KenWritez (# 3238) on :
 
Hmmmmmmm... I smell food! What's there to eat around here?
 

---

Posted by Tortuf (# 3784) on :
 
Fruitcake.
 

---

Posted by Grits (# 4169) on :
 
Hey! I recognize that fruitcake.
 

---

Posted by Gort (# 6855) on :
 
The ship morphs into a glittering disco ball and showers the happy campers with dancing beams of light.

Everyone clasps hands and begin to dance in a joyful circle to the lilting tune of "It's a Small World After All!"
 

---

Posted by KenWritez (# 3238) on :
 
Hey, that thing walking around with the notebook looks like it might be good. Let's go have a taste....
 

---

Posted by jedijudy (# 1059) on :
 
The jedi waves her hand in front of KenWritez' face...

You must not eat the visitors.

The Sarky and the RooK probably thought they were coming to a safe place.
 

---

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
(Notices condiments smeared over hands, and hastily wipes them off.)

It may be a good thing that I have terrible taste.
 

---

Posted by Campbellite (# 1202) on :
 
Campbellite fingers the handle on his fireplace poker.

Well clearly you have terrible taste, RooK. Everyone knows that you serve barbecue kitten (even the tofu versions) with cole slaw. How could you forget the cole slaw?

Campbellite keeps one eye on the jedi, and another on the kitty hiding in the bushes.
 

---

Posted by sophs (# 2296) on :
 
sophs looks in the direction that Campbellite keeps glancing in and spies the kitten. She then picks it up and moves it out of harms way

Mean person
 

---

Posted by Sarkycow (# 1012) on :
 
Sarkycow waits to see what the natives do with the picture.

So, RooK, whaddya reckon? Is Simon a creator god to the natives? Or a myth that they frighten their youngsters with? Or what?

Actually, come to think of it, does this society have a juvenile form? I haven't spotted any youngsters. Or any leaders/alphas. The Jedi could fit into the care-giver category however...
 

---

Posted by KenWritez (# 3238) on :
 
KenWritez thoughtfully chews on jedi's hand which she foolishly stuck in his face.

Hmmmm....

<Spits it out>

Ick. Tastes like tofu. I'm walking over to try a bite of that walking-around, looking-around thing....
 

---

Posted by LeRoc (# 3216) on :
 
I wonder what would happen if Rook or Ken actually ate one of the creatures that dwell here.

I suppose that the creature would die and go to... well, heaven.
 

---

Posted by jedijudy (# 1059) on :
 
Naughty, naughty KenWritez and Campbellite.

The jedi wipes the slobber off her hand and wonders for the thirty-second time why in the world she always gets the job of taking care of the toddlers. They are so cute, but it would be great to hang out with adults from time to time. She pats sophs on the head in gratitude for looking after the RooK's kitten. Darling girl.

*yawn* Well, RooK and Sarky, I think my brood and I should all wander off to our beds so you nice people can go home. We must do this again sometime.
 

---

Posted by Timothy the Obscure (# 292) on :
 
Timothy walks up and takes a morsel of barbecued tofukitten, sits down on a rock and pops the cork on a bottle of Elk Cove 2003 Pinot Gris. Tastes the barbecue, sips the wine.... No, it clashes with the wine...too much vinegar in the sauce. These creatures really don't have much to offer...the kindest thing to do would be to return them to their natural habitat...
 

---

Posted by Campbellite (# 1202) on :
 
Timothy,
The problem isn't the wine. The problem is that you are using the wrong BBQ sauce.

This is what you need.

They will ship it anywhere in the world!
 

---

Posted by The Bede's American Successor (# 5042) on :
 

quote:

---

Originally posted by Gort:
The ship morphs into a glittering disco ball and showers the happy campers with dancing beams of light.

Everyone clasps hands and begin to dance in a joyful circle to the lilting tune of "It's a Small World After All!"

---

quote:

---

These are Soylent Green kittens.

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by LeRoc:
I wonder what would happen if Rook or Ken actually ate one of the creatures that dwell here.

I suppose that the creature would die and go to... well, heaven.

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by jedijudy:
...jj passes Campbellite a platter of barbeque tofu cat with a side of special sauce and baked beans, cole slaw and grits...

---

Grits???

Is this going to become another cannibalism thread?
 

---

Posted by ONUnicorn (# 7331) on :
 

quote:

---

Is this going to become another cannibalism thread?

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by Gort:
The ship morphs into a glittering disco ball and showers the happy campers with dancing beams of light.

Everyone clasps hands and begin to dance in a joyful circle to the lilting tune of "It's a Small World After All!"

---

Startlingly, I just posted to a leather-related discussion group today about the disco version of that very song, without having read this post.

I just thought you all should know.
 

---

Posted by ChastMastr (# 716) on :
 
Yes, really and truly.

David
also loves the ride. Be afraid, be very afraid...
 

---

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
(Flips open Original Star Trek communicator.)

Mr. Gort? One to beam up. Our mission here is complete.
 

---

Posted by ChastMastr (# 716) on :
 
(hopes people will click on the link and then on the streaming media sample of said song further down...)
 

---

Posted by Campbellite (# 1202) on :
 
David, you are not a well man.
 

---

Posted by Grits (# 4169) on :
 
"Goodbye, RooKy Poppins. Don't stay away too long."
 

---

Posted by Sarkycow (# 1012) on :
 

 

---

Posted by ChastMastr (# 716) on :
 
You have inspired me; the synchronicity was too much to resist, and soon -- soon! -- it shall be mine at last! MU-HU-HU-HA-HA-HA-HAAAAA!

David
damn, that's just evil
 

---

Posted by jedijudy (# 1059) on :
 

quote:

---

Originally posted by ChastMastr:

David
also loves the ride. Be afraid, be very afraid...

---

No! Please say it isn't so!

The jedi remembers times past, and the agony of waiting for the "ride" to be over. It invariably broke down every time she accompanied small children to that Small World, and that awful music kept going on and on and on... It is surely of the Dark Side!!
 

---

Posted by KenWritez (# 3238) on :
 
Hey, lunch is about to leave! No way!

KenWritez bounds over and bites off RooK's head.

Hmmmm...tastes like chicken.
 

---

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
RooK's body pats at the severed neck, then starts cheerfully using sign language to say, "I'M FREE! I'M FREE!!!", then skips off through the fields.

A disembodied voice emanates from KenWritez's gullet.

Well, that bites. Dude, I'm like sooo going to get even. Just as soon as I learn to use my ears like fins I'm going to swim over to your spleen and gnaw it away.

...Whoa. I didn't know that you had four stomachs. Hey, is this Jimmy Hoffa over here?
 

---

Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 
Chast,

I now have this image of you (clad in leather and singing "It's a small world after all" under a giant disco ball) stuck in my head.

No offense, but I'm going to run screaming from the thread now.

Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhh!
 

---

Posted by Campbellite (# 1202) on :
 
Not speaking from personal experience, mind you, but I understand that's a fairly accurate description.
 

---

Posted by KenWritez (# 3238) on :
 
Ya know what'd go good right now? A big plate of roasted garlic and some Diet Coke.
 

---

Posted by Kelly Alves (# 2522) on :
 
saysay, I love how RooK's decapitation doesn't bother you,but Chastmastr at a disco does.

Kelly//at least it wasn't a vital organ...
 

---

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
Oh good. There's some hope that this mostly-gravy stomach fluid will get diluted a bit.

Um, have you been dreaming about eating giant marshmallows, and waking up to find pillows missing? Seriously, big fella, you've got to learn to chew. It's bad enough to be stuck in here with soggy bedding, but I really didn't need to see the Hello Kitty patterns on the covers.
 

---

Posted by Gort (# 6855) on :
 
Lost in a reverie of dancing bears, E-rides, pretty girls and pirates, the droid wakes late to the clanging evac alarm. Frantically scanning the clearing below for a lock on the anthropologist, he realizes in horror that there are several coordinate points!

Sweet Sarky in the morning! Too late! He's been dismembered and parts scattered! Sobbing into the transporter controls, he advances levers to retrieve the scattered body. I've failed...what punishment awaits back in Hell?

The T-deck shimmers as a dopplered whine builds. With great effort the disparate parts are pulled into the ship and condensed. Recovered! The blinding glow subsides as the droid rushes forward...

An unspeakable abomination thrashes about on the deck. Part human, part bunny, part cat...a nightmarish morass of exposed organs and weirdly interwoven bits of chocolate! Where it's head should be is an unmistakeable human stomach... regurgitating and repeatedly sucking up it's own bile!

The droid steels himself to complete the mission and bring the quivering pile of Hellhost back home. Perhaps we can rebuild him...make him better, faster... more hellish!
 

---

Posted by jedijudy (# 1059) on :
 
The jedi looks up at the antique space craft. It feels ..cold.. up there. Ah, the dark side chess piece has been transported up.

Bye!! Y'all come back now, y'hear?

The jedi goes off to look for the bovine Sarky creature. There is hope for that sweet being! And, she's an art lover, too.
 

---

Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
 

quote:

---

Originally posted by Kelly Alves:
saysay, I love how RooK's decapitation doesn't bother you,but Chastmastr at a disco does.

Kelly//at least it wasn't a vital organ...

---

Hey, I once taught small children. I can deal with blood and all other bodily fluids.

But "It's a Small World"? That's just cruel.

Besides, I'm sure RooK would be a lot happier and more pleasant to be around without his twisted brain...

Silly robot, putting the creature back together again.
 

---

Posted by ChastMastr (# 716) on :
 
Soon... soon my album will be here... soon... and I owe it all to this thread (and the other place I mentioned) for inspiring me to hunt it down once and for all...
 

---

Posted by KenWritez (# 3238) on :
 
O, man! Thirty minutes after you've eaten a Hellhost, you're hungry again!
 

---

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :
 
Silly robot, RooKs are for tricks... No, wait. I meant to say, Hellhosts taste great and they're less filling!

(Using eldritch powers, RooK reconstitutes himself. Then, winks at Gort and produces a pair of jedi panties.)

Hoo-AH! Who knew that Judy was into g-strings?

(High-fives Gort.)
 

---

Posted by Gort (# 6855) on :
 
The droid hangs the panties from the rearview mirror while cranking down the driver's side window of the saucer. With a glare of contempt (as contemptible as possible with a featureless visor) he shakes his fist at the heavenly crowd and shouts:

You will pay!!! You will ALL PAAAAYYYYYY !!!

[the alien craft backfires, belches smoke and chugs away into the sky]
 

---

Posted by ChastMastr (# 716) on :
 

quote:

---

Originally posted by Gort:
You will pay!!! You will ALL PAAAAYYYYYY !!!

---

Well, if you insist...

The one...

The only...

Ballad of Bilbo Baggins!

Would that be sufficient, Mr. Gort?

David
 

---

Posted by The Bede's American Successor (# 5042) on :
 

quote:

---

Originally posted by RooK:
Hoo-AH! Who knew that Judy was into g-strings?

(High-fives Gort.)

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by ChastMastr:
Soon... soon my album will be here... soon... and I owe it all to this thread (and the other place I mentioned) for inspiring me to hunt it down once and for all...

---

quote:

---

Originally posted by saysay:
You somehow know it's my birthday and are just trying to torture me, right?

---

Happy birthday!!!
 

---

Posted by jedijudy (# 1059) on :
 
The jedi is walking through the woods, enjoying the sweet air and the birdsong. Butterflies are flitting about. Bees are humming and small furry creatures bound along the warm ground. The jedi spies a ruby grapefruit tree. There's still a few grapefruit at the very top!

Now that would be the perfect snack right about now.

The jedi raises her hand to use the Force...

Oh, yes. Master Yoda suggested I should improve some of my physical skills and accuracy.

The jedi reaches into the pocket of her robe for the slingshot she keeps there. Then she tries some of her other pockets. Finally she looks in her boots.

Where is that slingshot? I know I had it when I left home. Didn't I?

The jedi looks up at the sound of backfiring engines in the sky. There, hanging from the rear view mirror of the antique spacecraft...she thinks it might be an Edsel...is her slingshot.

Those dirty pups!
 

---

Posted by ChastMastr (# 716) on :
 
David runs out carrying a box of toys.

I've found just the thing for our new friends; this may help aid them in their transition period and give them something to cuddle and love.

Look! Plush toys! Aren't they sweet? It may remind them of home. Here's more on the adorable things.

And it's a little late, but here's a Valentine's Day card!



...

Hey, where'd everybody go?

...

Awww...

David
It's the Great Old Ones, Charlie Brown
 

---

Posted by ChastMastr (# 716) on :
 
Well, I guess I won't bring out the other soft toys I'd gotten together for them. Maybe someone else will want to play with them...

I have my Artist's Rendition of the last time something like this happened to keep me company as we wait for our friends to return.
 

---

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